Ghost
by Bluebeard's Wife
Summary: Brendan Brady can see dead people. And sometimes they're really annoying.
1. Chapter 1

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!" Brendan Brady jumped at the sight of the pale figure standing in his kitchen.

It wasn't the first time he'd seen a ghost by any means, but usually they respected his private space. He had found that simply pretending he didn't see them made them eventually go away. He was not interested in wasting his time on helping dead people resolve their issues.

This particular ghost, a short young man with strikingly blue eyes and a face that was too babyish to be attractive, had been haunting him all week, and he obviously had no sense of propriety. Brendan adjusted his boxer shots, yawned, and tried to pretend he didn't just let out a frightened yelp, but it was too late. The ghost's eyes lit up – as much as rather translucent ghost eyes can – and he cornered Brendan by the coffee maker.

"Aha! I knew you could see me!"

Brendan fumbled with the coffee container, pretending his annoyance was with the coffee and not himself for blowing his cover.

"Please. Please, just talk to me!" the ghost pleaded. "I need your help. There's no one else near here who can see us."

Brendan walked through the ghost and opened the fridge. He took a carton of milk out, smelled it, and satisfied that it hadn't gone bad yet, poured some into his empty coffee mug. Several large spoonfuls of sugar followed.

"Look," the ghost continued. "I-I can pay you. I know where Danny Houston is hiding his money. I can lead you to it if you help me."

Brendan poured hot coffee into the mug with milk and sugar. He set it down on the counter, stirring slowly. The dead young man started pacing, trying to come up with a more enticing offer.

"How much money?" Brendan asked, his back still turned.

"Two hundred thousand."

Brendan's eyebrows shot up momentarily. He turned to face the ghost.

"How can I be of help, ... I didn't catch your name?"

"Doug," the ghost replied immediately, a grin spreading on his pale face. "The name is Doug."

His smile faded as he continued, "I need you to talk to someone. My fiancé, Ste, in Hollyoaks."

"Hollyoaks, huh?" Brendan took a long, slurping sip of his coffee. "Well, Douglas, I happen to have some free time this week. Tell me, this fiancée, Ste? Stephanie? Is she cute?"

"Steven." Doug said. "And yes, he is."

* * *

Ste Hay sat alone in his darkened flat. Was life always going to be like this? Just as he finds something good, something worth living for, it gets taken away. First his kids, now Doug. The police assured him that they were doing all they could. In fact, the detective was a rather nice young bloke by the name of Joel Fox.

On one occasion, he made Ste a cup of tea and listened to his tear filled ramblings about his missing boyfriend. Fiancé. Ste kept forgetting that Doug had proposed to him the night before his disappearance. And Ste had said yes. It had seemed like his life was finally on track. He and Doug had been running the deli together for a while, and Doug made him happy. It was the kind of normal, stable life Ste really wanted. And once Amy saw he was done dealing drugs and lying about his sexuality, she might have let him see the kids again.

But all it took was one day to destroy everything. He had told the story to the police numerous times in the following months. When he woke up the day after the proposal, Doug was gone. Ste had given them the note Doug left on the counter.

 _Running errands. Back before lunch._

 _xo your fiancé_

But he hadn't seen Doug since then. And apparently neither had anyone else. The detective had mentioned a few leads, but his partner strongly insinuated that Doug had just up and left Ste. Ste reacted to this by yelling at her until she threatened to arrest him. Once he had calmed down a bit, the detectives left, Detective Fox patting Ste consolingly on the arm on his way out.

That was the last he'd heard about the case in over a month. Where could Doug be? Was he okay? Had he just left Ste? What if he was hurt or dead? Ste couldn't decide which scenario seemed worse and was quite relieved when the doorbell interrupted his thoughts.

"Mr. Hay. Can I come in?" Detective Fox looked solemn.

"Yah, 'course," said Ste. "I wasn't expecting to see you here again. Do you have a lead? Have you found Doug?"

Ste braced himself for an answer, but Detective Fox shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Hay. It seems that your fiancé was involved in some dirty business. That is likely the cause of his disappearance." He bit his lip before glancing at Ste. "We have reason to believe that he was killed over a drug deal. We have a suspect, but no usable evidence against him."

Ste grabbed onto the wall for support. Reason to believe that he was killed. A suspect.

"What? Who? Have you found..." Ste couldn't form the words.

The detective sighed. "We have found a body, but... we need... well, we need someone to identify his belongings, and then we can run a DNA test."

At these words, the tears disappeared from Ste's eyes. He had known. If he was honest, he had known all along. Doug wouldn't have just left him. Doug was gone.

"Okay," he said quietly. "I'll just get my coat."

He stopped in his tracks and turned back to face the detective. "Who is the suspect?"

Detective Fox hesitated.

"We're not technically supposed to reveal this information," he said, but at the look on Ste's face, he nodded and continued. "Danny Houston."

* * *

Brendan Brady was not a patient man. In fact, he was a very quick tempered man. And if it hadn't been for the promised 200,000 quid, he might have petitioned his church for an exorcism or something, anything, that would get rid of this whining dead chap who kept following him around.

Though Doug stopped short of asking "Are we there yet?" on their drive to Hollyoaks, his constant nervous glances at the speedometer made Brendan want to punch him in his doughy face. And he would have if it wasn't for the whole incorporeal thing.

 _Fuckin' ghosts._

Brendan tapped his fingers on the steering wheel anxiously, trying to ignore the disconcerting flickering of Doug's visage that he could only assume was due to stress.

"How much longer do we have?" Doug asked, and Brendan turned to look at him, ignoring the road in front of him for a dangerously long time.

"Are you serious?" Brendan spat. "Seriously?"

He returned his eyes to the road and grumbled, "Don't even understand why you're in the car with me."

"What was that?"

"I said, why don't you just Harry Potter yourself over there instead of getting on my nerves?"

"I don't trust you," Doug said.

Brendan glanced over at him quickly.

"You don't...? Trust? What the fuck does trust have to do with it? I want your money," he said, enunciating every syllable. "Get it? Money. Don't trust me. Never trust me."

He chuckled to himself for a few moments before looking back over at the now empty passenger seat. "Trust!"

* * *

Ste had been walking aimlessly for several hours when he was almost run over by a black sedan. The car swerved onto the sidewalk, tires screeching loudly. Ste fell backwards and hit the pavement hard with his head. A dark-haired, mustached man jumped out of the car as soon as it had come to a complete stop. He wore a leather jacket and jeans that were tight in all the right places. Ste immediately berated himself for that thought, blamed it on having hit his head, and tried to stand up, groaning.

Having swerved at the last moment and saved himself the trouble of having to wipe up some scrawny lad off the street with a mop, Brendan exited his car quickly and ran towards his almost-victim.

"Can you watch where you're going?" he shouted. "I almost just killed you. Are you alright? Can you get up? I didn't even hit you!"

He helped the lad stand up, and his annoyance faded as he noticed a large gash on the back of his head.

"Oi, you're hurt. I'll take you to the hospital."

"I'm alright." Ste stuttered, but Brendan paid him no mind. He ushered him into the passenger seat of his car.

"Don't bleed on my seat, got it?"

Ste glanced at him in horror, but Brendan's mouth twisted into a toothy grin.

"Just joking," he said. "I'm Brendan."

"Hi," Ste said, still feeling woozy from the fall. This Brendan bloke had the most gorgeous blue eyes.

"Did ya forget your name?" Brendan asked. "Should I call an ambulance? Do you know who you are?"

"No, yes, yes, I know who... my name is Steven Hay."

"Nice to meet you, Steven Hay. Buckle up!" Brendan closed the passenger door and walked around to his side of the car.

Ste felt awful. Partly because his head was throbbing, but mostly because the last thing he wanted to do was spend the night in the waiting room of a hospital.

"I can't... I don't want to go to the hospital," he said just as Brendan had gotten back on the road.

Brendan considered for a moment.

"Well I can't leave you alone if you might have a concussion," he said.

He wasn't exactly sure why he said that. It wasn't like him to play the good Samaritan. This bloke just looked so sad and pathetic that Brendan felt sorry for him the way one might for a sick puppy left in the rain. They finally agreed to spend some time in the lobby of Brendan's hotel, until Brendan was assured that Steven was ok.

"I could get a first aid kit and patch that up for you," Brendan said after Ste touched the back of his head awkwardly for the 100th time. "C'mon, we'll get a cup of tea for you and a whisky for me, and watch some telly."

Brendan motioned toward the elevator and Steven obediently followed. It occurred to Ste how it must look, going to a hotel room with a stranger in the middle of the night, but he honestly just didn't care anymore. He followed Brendan, unsure and uncaring of what his intentions were.

He was only mildly surprised when Brendan, after cleaning and bandaging his cut, sat on the opposite end of the couch and turned on the television.

"You're staring." Brendan said, turning to meet Ste's eyes.

"I'm sorry!" Ste muttered.

Brendan returned to watching the TV. Ste continued to stare.

"Steven." Brendan said, without looking this time.

"It's just..." Ste spoke up. "When you brought me here, I thought you was either gonna kill me or try to y'know... seduce me, right?"

Brendan didn't laugh.

"How do you know I'm not?" he said, eyes still firmly fixed on the television. He smiled a crooked half smile and glanced over at Ste. "I'm not gonna hurt you, Steven."

Seduction, for Brendan, was certainly an option. But he liked to play with his prey. And he wanted to be sure Steven wanted it, too. Lastly, he was more than a little worried that his least favorite ghost might turn up and ruin a good time. Where was Douglas, anyway? Probably haunting his fiancé. Wasn't his name Steven also? Brendan's head involuntarily turned to look at the young blond next to him. Nah, that would be too weird of a coincidence, he decided.

They returned to watching cartoons, exchanging occasional glances and giggles.

"How's yer head?" Brendan asked after a while.

"Better," said Ste. "It's late, I should..."

"Someone waiting up for you?"

"No, I just..." Ste shrugged. Brendan's gaze seemed to burn into him. It was obvious what he wanted. And just as obvious that he wasn't going to make the first move.

Ste wasn't ready for this. He got up to leave, and Brendan politely offered him a ride home. Insisting that the walk will do him good, Ste put on his coat as Brendan opened the door for him. Instinctively, as though it was the most natural thing in the world, Ste planted a quick kiss on Brendan's lips before heading out. He stopped in the hallway and turned around to face Brendan slowly.

"I... I don't know why I... I'm sorry," he muttered, but he couldn't help noticing that Brendan's ears had suddenly turned red.

"It's no bother, mate," Brendan said, and the composure of his voice did not betray how flustered he felt at the jolt Steven's kiss produced in his body.

With an awkward wave and a small smile, Ste was gone, leaving Brendan grinning stupidly as he fell onto his bed.


	2. Chapter 2

Brendan woke up with the unsettling feeling of being watched. He sat upright, and it took him a few moments to get his bearings. That's right, he was in a hotel room. Because of that Douglas chap. _Douglas_. He looked at the corner by the window, and there he found the source of his unease. Douglas' translucent figure sat cross-legged on the little desk in the corner, staring at Brendan intently.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph." Brendan muttered to himself.

"Do you always sleep this late?" Doug asked in that annoying, holier-than-thou tone he often adopted.

"Only when I've been driving all night to talk to some dead bloke's boyfriend."

"Fiancé." Doug corrected him.

"Hm," said Brendan, getting up slowly and stretching. "Doesn't fiancé imply that you are going to get married at some point? Because the way I see it, he was just your boyfriend. Marriage ain't gonna happen. You being dead and all."

Doug chose to ignore the jab.

"Ste didn't come home last night. I was there until 3 in the morning," he said. "I'm really worried."

"Have you considered, Douglas, that maybe he's moved on? Living his life without you? Enjoying his newfound freedom?"

"Screw you."

Brendan chuckled.

"Well, today's the big day. If your lover ever made it home, I'm about to _blow his mind_!"

"We have to come up with a plan." Doug said. "You can't just barge in there and tell him you're talking to his dead boyfrien- fiancé!"

"Why not?"

"Because he'll think you're nuts!"

"Who's to say I'm not. I am talking to a dead bloke, after all."

Brendan grimaced at Doug and went to the bathroom, ignoring Doug's pleas to formulate a plan. For all he cared, the deal was that he tell this Ste whatever it was Douglas wanted to tell him. It wasn't his job to make sure he believed it.

* * *

A few blocks down, Ste was getting ready to leave his flat. He noticed that he felt oddly elated today. In spite of knowing that Doug was gone, at least now he knew. He could move forward. He had spent months waiting for news, any news, and now there was nothing left to wait for.

He touched the back of his head gingerly, probing the gash. It was a little painful, but nothing to be concerned about. He remembered the dashing stranger who had patched him up. Brendan. He'd have to thank him somehow. The whole thing was really Ste's fault, and Brendan had been very kind. He had also been vague about his reasons for staying in Hollyoaks, saying it was some sort of contracting work and that he was only planning on staying for a few days.

Ste had a funeral to plan, however. As he made his way to the deli, he wondered if it would be inappropriate to invite Brendan for a drink after the funeral. He already dreaded the pitying looks and hushed whispers that had followed him around ever since Doug went missing. They were bound to get even worse. Maybe a drink with someone who didn't know the situation would actually be good for him. And Brendan didn't have to know about Doug. Ste had had enough pity.

He arrived at the deli and decided to finally sort out all those unopened bills that had collected by the door. If he was going to keep this business above ground, he'd have to take care of things on his own. Electric. Food supply. Water. Business loan. The name Danny Houston popped up. It sounded familiar. He might have to hire someone to take care of accounting. Ste couldn't make ends or tails out of all these letters.

A sharp knock on the door made him jump. Shit, he was supposed to have opened the deli half an hour ago. Quickly wrapping his blue apron around his waist, Ste hurried to the door.

"Do business hours mean nothing in this town?" a familiar voice sounded through the door. Ste flipped the OPEN sign and pulled the door open to reveal Brendan Brady standing there, looking annoyed.

* * *

Doug was getting on Brendan's every last nerve, and Brendan was already starting to regret having agreed to this deal. What he did not expect, however, was Douglas to have led him straight to that cute blond from last night. For a moment he stared at Steven slack-jawed.

"Ste..." Douglas whispered, his translucent eyes filling with tears.

Brendan's mouth slowly formed into a wide grin.

"Steven!" he said. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Brendan," Ste smiled, feeling genuinely excited to see him again. "I'm sorry, I-I forgot to unlock the door."

"Tell him I'm here," Doug whispered.

"You work here?" Brendan asked as he slipped past Ste into the deli.

"Yeah. No. Yes. I own the place." Ste stuttered. He didn't know why this bloke made him feel so stupid, but he didn't hate it.

"Tell him I'm here," Doug repeated, a little more loudly.

"Look at you," Brendan playfully punched Ste's shoulder. "Owning your own business."

Ste grinned, embarrassed.

"Wait, how do you two know each other?" Doug sounded alarmed.

"What can I get you?" Ste asked, going behind the counter.

"How about a drink after work?" Brendan leaned on the counter as Doug sputtered behind him.

"Alright." Ste didn't know what had come over him. He felt a pang of guilt in his gut, but chose to ignore it. Doug would have wanted him to be happy, he thought. And how could he be happy if he didn't give new things a chance?

Brendan laughed. "That was easy. Pick you up at..." he glanced at the hours listed on the door. "Seven?"

"Make it eight," Ste insisted. "Give me time to clean up around here."

Brendan grabbed a biscuit from the box on the counter before winking at Ste and leaving without paying.

"Are you gonna tell me what the hell that was all about?" Doug walked hurriedly after Brendan down the street.

"Relax, Douglas." Brendan said, glancing around to make sure no one could see him talking to himself. "I just figured this talk would be easier over drinks. Besides, how am I gonna convince him that you're real if you don't tell me everything you know about Steven that no one else knows?"

Doug wasn't entirely convinced.

"You were right," Brendan continued. "We need a plan of action. Now scram. I have some personal business to attend to."

He shoved the entire biscuit in his mouth and slinked away down a narrow side street.

* * *

Eight o'clock couldn't roll around fast enough for Ste. He was done cleaning up before half past seven and just stood around awkwardly polishing the shelves for the last half hour. Brendan showed up exactly on the hour. Unfortunately for him, and unbeknownst to Ste, so did Doug.

"Hello, Steven." Brendan said in a low voice. "You ready to go?"

"If you try anything with him, Brendan, I swear to god, I'm gonna..." Doug was whispering in Brendan's ear, but Brendan waved him away like an annoying fly.

"I s'ppose so," said Ste, trying his best not to seem nervous. It wasn't even a date. They were just going for a drink. It didn't mean anything.

"What's a good pub to have a pint?" Brendan asked Ste as he locked up.

"The Dog's all right." Ste said.

"Lead the way," Brendan smiled at him. "That's a nice deli you got there. It's tough starting a business on your own."

"Well, I had some help," Ste said. From Doug and some Danny Houston bloke, apparently. Danny Houston. _Why_ did that name sound familiar?

At the pub, Brendan selected a corner table that allowed them some privacy.

"Loud in here, innit?" Ste said conversationally.

"Yeah." Frankly, Brendan would have preferred it louder if it meant drowning out Douglas' constant reminders to tell Ste he was there.

"You're just gonna ignore me? Great! That's just great." Doug was getting irate but ultimately had no recourse to make Brendan do his bidding. "Can you at least tell him about Danny Houston?"

"There's something you're not telling me," Brendan said, looking deep into Ste's eyes. "You're afraid of my reaction."

Ste gulped. He had felt like Brendan's blue eyes could see straight through him from the start, but he hadn't expected this.

"Well, I... I suppose I should tell you that I'm engaged." Ste said, peeling off the label on his beer bottle awkwardly. " _Was_ ," he looked up. "Was engaged."

Brendan nodded understandingly, waiting for Ste to finish his confession.

"He died. Recently." Ste continued. "I don't want your pity," he added quickly.

"No pity," said Brendan. "You're still alive, ain't you? You'll get over it."

Doug gasped indignantly, but Ste smiled ever so slightly.

* * *

Hours later, Brendan and Ste found themselves stumbling drunkenly in front of Ste's flat.

"...forgot to take off the bird!" Ste giggled slurring his words slightly. He paused before unlocking his door and turned to look at Brendan. "Ta." He said.

"For what?"

"For a good night." Ste said. "For no pity. And the pints," he snorted.

Brendan took a step towards him, his face now mere inches from Ste's.

"You're welcome." He whispered, looking at Ste through hooded eyelids.

Ste leaned in ever so slightly, parting his lips, but at that exact moment, a heavy flower pot seemed to spontaneously flip over, roll down the stairs, and shatter into a hundred pieces.

Both men turned to look, one more surprised than the other.

Ste seemed to suddenly come to his senses.

"I-I should... g'night!" he exclaimed before turning the key and quickly disappearing inside his flat.

"Shit."

"I didn't know I could do that!" Doug said excitedly, and then, suddenly remembering _why_ he had done that, lunged himself at Brendan.

Brendan braced himself, but Doug's flickering image simply flew through him and fell hard onto the floor.

"God damn it." Doug exclaimed, while Brendan adjusted his collar and walked slowly off.


	3. Chapter 3

Brendan walked into his hotel room to find Doug already sitting on his bed, glaring at him.

"Oh," Brendan said, gesturing at the door and then at Doug with his finger. "That's neat."

He closed the door and approached the bed. "How can I help you, Douglas?"

"How dare you? Who do you think you are?" Doug was suddenly on his feet and yelling, his voice echoing eerily around the hotel room.

Brendan cleared his throat.

"I don't know what you're talking about, mate," he said almost sheepishly.

"You were hitting on Ste. You were trying to sleep with my boyfriend." Doug's face would have turned purple had he been alive.

"Well," Brendan chuckled. "He didn't seem to mind, did he?"

Once again, Doug lunged at Brendan, passing straight through him and landing on the floor.

"It's curious," Brendan said, grinning. "How you hit the floor hard but pass through me... Huh. Does it hurt?"

"Well I pushed that flower pot over." Doug lowered his voice so Brendan had to lean forward to hear him as he stood up. "So it's only a matter of time before I can knock your teeth out."

Brendan let out a slightly manic laugh.

"Yeah..." He said. "Yeah. Anyway! Where is Danny Houston hiding his cash, Douglas? And how exactly do you know about it?"

"That's what I need you to tell Ste." Douglas sighed and sat back down on the bed. "Danny agreed to invest in our deli, if I agreed to move some goods for him."

He averted his eyes from Brendan's amused gaze.

"I thought it would be easy." Doug continued, as Brendan let out a chuckle. "But I messed up. Once Danny found out, it was over for me. He strangled me and disposed of my body." His voice started cracking at the thought of his own death.

"And how exactly did you 'mess up'?" Brendan asked. "Did you try stealing from Danny Houston, Dougie? Are you really that stupid?"

"Yeah," Doug shrugged. "I guess I am. Even so, I wanted to find a way to get the money to Ste, but..." his voice trailed off.

"But what?"

"I think he may be in danger. Danny has been trying to find where I hid the money. I think he might go after Ste because..."

"Let me get this straight," Brendan interrupted. "Not only did you get yourself killed over a couple hundred grand, you put your lover in danger too?" He laughed again. "You are even dumber than I thought."

"Look, I just wanted to pay off his part of the deli. I didn't want Ste to find out!"

"So, you also lied to your boyfriend... erm, fiancé," Brendan exaggerated the last word for effect, "before proposing to him? Beautiful, just, beautiful."

Brendan was having too much fun with this.

"Are you gonna help me or not?" Doug had had enough. "I will tell you where the money is as soon as Ste is out of trouble, okay? Just, just don't sleep with him in the meantime, deal?"

"Douglas," Brendan took a step toward Doug, leaning over his pale figure, and examined him closely. "You don't tell me what I can and can't do, yeah? Now, I'm going to help you save Steven, and you, you will watch your tone of voice with me and go away when I tell you to go away, yeah? Do we have a deal?"

"Yeah, okay."

"Good lad."

Brendan made a shooing motion with his hand, and Doug obediently disappeared.

* * *

For the third time, the door opened at the deli the following day, and Ste looked up expectantly but failed to hide his disappointment.

"'Morning," he said. "What'll you have?"

"Wow, can you rein in your enthusiasm a bit?" the dark haired woman said pursing her ruby red lips. "It's infectious."

"Sorry Mitzeee," Ste shrugged. "I've got a lot on me mind. And it hasn't exactly been busy 'round here."

"Oh yeah," she said. "I heard about Doug. Pity, that."

She gave Ste an appraising look.

"It's not really news, though, is it?" she said. "It's not like he would've just up and left you."

Completely disregarding Ste's obvious discomfort, Mitzeee continued to think out loud.

"What you need to do is get back on that horse. Move on. It's been months. It'll make you happier and improve business around here when people stop associating this place with a dead bloke."

Finally noticing the look on Ste's face, she added, "Well, I'm just saying what needs to be said. You let me know when you're ready to talk. Can I get a turkey sandwich?"

It took Ste a moment to register her request.

"Uh, sure, yes. Turkey sandwich, coming up." He blinked at all the ingredients that seemed to stretch into eternity on the counter in front of him.

"Mitzeee?" he finally said.

"Hm?"

"D'you really think I should start dating again?"

"Yes, of course." She shrugged. "Life goes on, Ste. I did it after Warren. I barely even think about him now."

Somehow Ste didn't entirely believe her. She had never quite been the same after her boyfriend Warren had tried to kill her.

Mitzeee squinted at Ste slightly. "Have you got someone in mind?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What? No!"

"Oh my god," Mitzeee gasped. "You do, don't you? Well, come on, spill!"

Ste could feel his skin flushing all the way up to his temples.

"It's not... There's just... There's this bloke." He bit his lip anxiously. "I think he's up for it, but I don't know if I'm ready."

Mitzeee's eyes lit up. "Of course you're ready. You're not jumping into marriage. Just his bed." She grinned.

"Well, it don't matter anyhow, because he's leaving in a few days, and I don't have his number." Ste said, finally beginning to make Mitzeee's sandwich.

"Shame," Mitzeee shrugged. "I think we could both use a good shag," she mumbled under her breath.

"What?" Ste frowned.

"Nothing! Is my sandwich ready?"

* * *

Finally rid of Doug for a day, Brendan had spent it trying to snoop out the cash on his own. Where would Douglas have hidden it? Maybe getting closer to Steven would help figure out potential hiding places, he thought as he stretched out on his bed. This was proving to be a lot more complicated and potentially dangerous than he had bargained for. He knew he should just tell Steven what he knew and get out of dodge. He wasn't entirely certain what was keeping him there. Annoying Douglas had its appeal, but it wasn't exactly a raison d'etre. Yes, he did want to shag Steven, but it's not like he didn't have other options back home. It was a lot of money, but not worth getting involved with the likes of Danny Houston over.

Brendan got up and opened up his small suitcase. He hadn't brought a lot with him, so packing didn't take long. He picked up his phone and searched through the contacts. Steven. Sitting down on the bed, Brendan tried to come up with a way to present the information he had for Steven without sounding like a lunatic. Perhaps it was best to leave Douglas out of it.

A knock on the door startled him, and he stood up abruptly. He hadn't told anyone where he was staying. Had Danny Houston found him? Moving quickly but quietly, he opened the drawer next to the bed and reached for his gun. He tucked it into the back of his jeans and slowly pulled the door ajar. To his complete shock, Steven stood outside his door, wringing his hands nervously.

"Hiya," Ste chuckled. "Can I come in?"

"Steven," Brendan opened the door wide and gestured for Ste to come inside, his eyes still wide open in shock. "Is everything alright? What're you doing here?"

He leaned out the door to make sure Steven hadn't been followed before closing it.

"I was just in the neighborhood," Ste said a little too cheerily, walking in. "Thought I'd drop by."

Brendan shut the door, and an awkward moment passed between them before Ste's smile faltered.

"Should I go? Am I intruding?"

"No! Not at all." Brendan wanted to kick himself for making it awkward, but he seemed at a loss for words for the first time in his life.

"I should go," said Ste as he turned back towards the door.

Brendan grabbed Ste's arm and pulled him toward himself. They stared at each other for a moment before Brendan leaned in, ever so slowly, and placed a gentle kiss on Ste's lips. His whole body seemed to hum as Ste returned the pressure, inhaling sharply, and parted his lips to run the tip of his tongue across Brendan's. Brendan ran one hand through Ste's hair, pulling him closer by his shirt with the other.

The kiss was warm and wet and comforting for Ste. It had been a while since he'd felt another person's body so close to his. Ste had expected it to be awkward or feel wrong, but it didn't. Their bodies fit together as though they were made for this.

As Brendan felt Steven press his whole body against his, a grunt escaped from his throat that would have made anyone blush. Steven pulled away, only to lower his head and nibble gently on Brendan's neck. Fuck, that felt good. Ste's knee somehow found itself pressed between Brendan's spread legs, and Brendan felt powerless for a moment, wondering how he wound up pressed against the wall, moaning Steven's name under his breath. But as Steven's hand reached around Brendan's waist, he pulled away suddenly, leaving a gust of cold air between them.

Brendan opened his eyes, confused.

"Is that..." Ste sputtered. "Is that a gun? D'you have a gun on you? Why'd you have a gun?"

Brendan let his head fall back, bumping into the wall slightly.

"It's nothing," he said. "Don't worry about it." He took the gun out, unloaded it, and put it back in the drawer.

"C'mere," he motioned to Ste, whose furrowed brow made it clear that the moment had been ruined.

"Are you a criminal?" Ste asked point blank.

"Wha.. no!" Brendan tried to come up with an excuse. "I just like to be safe."

Ste snorted, turning to leave. "I shouldn'ta come here."

Brendan grimaced for a moment, panicking, trying to come up with a way to keep Steven there, but failing. Ste was already halfway out the door, when the word "Douglas" tore itself from Brendan's mouth.

Ste turned around. "What? How'd you know Doug's name? I never told you, I..."

He walked back into the room, closing the door behind him.

"Do you know what happened to Doug?" Ste asked.

Brendan was usually a good liar. It never took him long to come up with a story, and he took pride in being able to talk people into anything. But for some reason, his mind was completely blank, and he resigned himself to telling the truth.

"Yes," he said. "I do."

"How?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told ya."

"Try me."

Brendan chuckled.

"Can we chat over a pint?"

"Alright," Ste shrugged. "But you better not try anything."

Brendan smiled.

"Scouts honor," he said before grabbing his room key, and they made their way to the hotel bar.


End file.
